“Are you okay now, Pauly?” his father asked. His breath was warm and heavy with the odor of cigarettes and Paul liked the smell. He nodded his head in reply and clasped his fingers around his father’s tie, studying it’s colorful design. fn : | “Grampa Beemer’s dead, isn’t he, daddy?” Paul’s eyes rose and stared into his fathers’ “Ves, Paul,’ he answered, he’s dead.” “Does everyone have to die?’ | “Everybody” answered his father. “Even me and you.” Paul sat up and gazed through the windows at the starlit sky. “I’m not afraid,” he said. } their heads, the squirrels pulled the nuts from his hand and stepped back to eat them. They stood on their hind legs waiving their tails and chewed on the nuts which they fondled on their fore-paws. Grampa loved squirrels and they liked him too. The wheels of the car ground to a stop on the loose gravel in front of a huge, castle-like house. Paul’s mother opened her purse and pulled out a kleenex. She wrapped it around her index finger, held it to her mouth and licked it heavily. She turned to Paul and began scrubbing his ear. Paul grimaced and scrambled out of the car after his father, escaping his mother’s soggy kleenex. Paul held his father’s big warm hand as they walked into a dark, noisey room. The only light came from a green shaded lamp in the corner that was engulfed by plants and vines with pretty pink flowers. There were many people in the room, all talking at once in low voices; and some were crying. Ahead of him was his cousin George, hunched over a big open book with a pen in his hand. George was the same age aS Paul but he was smaller and not as husky. He had thick flashy lips and short crew cut hair that spiked straight out from his pointed head. Tears were rolling from the corners of his eyes and down his pale cheeks. Paul moved closer and heard Aunt Ruth telling him that he didn’t have to sign his name if he didn’t want to. George dropped the pen and hugged his fhother sobbing in deep choking breaths. George was silly to cry just because he could not sign his name thought Paul as he stepped up to the book. He took the pen in his chubby hand and meticulously scrawled his name in big letters so that everyone could see that he knew how. Then, beaming proudly, he turned to look at George, but he hiad gone. Paul handed the pen to his father and waited. When the signing was done, Paul’s father put his heavy hands on his shoulder and guided him through a small dark hallway into another room. Candles hung from the walls, flickering, dancing vague shadows on the ceiling and giving the room a yellowish glow. There were many people there but no one talked. They cried. Paul felt squeamish in his stomach and very hot. He ran a finger under his collar as he wormed his way through the legs and arms of the crowd to find his grampa. A plump woman dressed in black moved out of his path, and Paul jerked to a sudden stop. His fingers contracted and his lips parted. A light feeling came to his stomach, a sick feeling. Before him in a small silver and blue bed lay Grampa, stiff and unmoving Paul’s breath jerked in his throat. His body trembled all over and his legs moved him forward on their own, slowly, carefully, right up IN BETWEEN © J watch wrinkled, with large squared knuckles and oversized veins; The smiling dummy She with her doll giggles then, by a made up name. and throws The On sun-cracked walk. trembling lips, I watch my she But, later, runs A some- sister hold her doll. song of J want to steal Her doll away avid hug the silly My SEALER feels secure with me? O'm older, now. thing. just Qa toy. 9 need a boy. Shauna es I a frown lawn. 9 feel up. a by with to our growing But, 20 Ty back A throbbing in my mind that pounds to sing thing was gone. Paul’s trembling hand jerked forward, leading his forearm. His fingers touched the leathery skin on Grampa’s hand. It was cold and lifeless. ‘Paul’s skin tingled. His stomach rose. The blood whirred through his head and drummed in his ears. His vision was dusted with millions of Swirling particles, then blackness. “Paul,” cried his mother as he slumped to the floor. Paul fluttered his eyes, then opened them wide looking into the sombre face of his father. He was back in the car now, and the cool night air was breezing over his body from an open window. TTS go the dolly down To join an older girl at hopscotch on to Gram- but sister playing sweetened lawn and oak tree shade. She hugs the hot new plastic when she calls pa’s side. The eyelids of the old man hung deeply over their sockets. A slight smile broke the line of his lips, and Paul’s eyes moved slowly to where Grampa’s hands hung folded on his chest. They were the same hands, calloused and my On summer Whittier